


Glowing Eyes (Something is Out There)

by frosteds0ulz



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, Blood, Death, Dumbass teenager!FOB, Gen, Horror, Paranormal AU, possessed!Patrick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-03-05 06:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3108692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frosteds0ulz/pseuds/frosteds0ulz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something happened to Patrick during a ghost hunt at an old abandoned house that's apparently "haunted".  It's up to the other 3 to find out exactly /what/ happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> based off of @auskey's paranormal!au and @sailorspencer's tags (tumblr) the cipher used w/ some of the text is the caesar cipher!

“Dude, don’t forget to pack extra batteries, that’s like, the most important part!”

Patrick grumbled and snatched a pack from the bed, stuffing them into the front flap of the oversized backpack that somehow _he_ was stuck with lugging around all night.

“Look, guys, I’m just kinda tired, and I really think—“

Joe smirked and shot a teasing glance in Patrick’s direction. “What, you scared? You know we’re not actually gonna find anything. We never do.”

Patrick relaxed ever-so-slightly at those words, and didn’t offer any more protests.

“C’mon guys, let’s gooo already,” Pete groaned and fiddled with the zipper of his hoodie, glancing at the clock. “I wanna get there before it gets dark.”

“Pete, it’s 1:00 in the fucking morning, I’m pretty sure it’s already dark,” Andy sighed, exasperated.

“Yeah, well, let’s go. We’ve been sitting here for the past hour, and I wanna see if we can actually find something this time.”

Joe snorted. “Alright, you heard the guy. We better go before he has an aneurysm or something.”

Patrick stood up and stretched, grabbing the backpack from the floor and following the guys out to the car.

“Shit, it’s fucking freezing out here,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

“C’mon ‘Trick, hurry the hell up,” Pete yelled from the car.

“Calm the fuck down, I’m coming.”

\--

On the way there, Patrick listened to the others joke around and silently wished he hadn’t agreed to this. He swallowed and wiped his hands on his jeans, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart and wondering if it’s loud enough for the others to hear.

He decided that it’s probably silly to get anxious about something as stupid and fake as ghost hunting, and tried to ignore all the advice he’d pored over on message boards at 3AM the night before.

It didn’t work very well, but he pretended it did.

"Jesus, 'Trick, you look like you've seen a ghost and we haven't even gotten there yet. You alright?" Pete chuckled, but he looked worried.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry about it."


	2. Chapter 2

The 4 of them were standing at the door of the house, trying to make sense of the place.

For starters, the place was _huge_. Faded white paint peeled from old walls beaten down with weather over the years, and there were a number of unsettling creaks and groans stirred up by the wind. From the outside, it just looked like...an old white house, falling apart. Splintered wood made up most of the creaky porch they were standing on, and a bent, rusty gutter ran up one side of the house. A few faint red streaks adorned the door, and Patrick knew almost instantly that it was blood. He swallowed hard.

One thing that Patrick had noticed while walking was that the grass farther away from the house was full of life; green and plentiful. But the closer they got, the more the grass looked dead, dry, and scarce. It was almost yellow in color, and by the time they reached the front porch, there was almost no grass. Just...dirt. It filled Patrick with a kind of dread he couldn't quite understand, but he felt like he should push onwards to the best of his abilities. Something in here was worth it, and it was up to them to find it.

As the other 3 stood mentally steeling themselves for what was to come and shooting each other glances that clearly said "You go first", Patrick wandered over to the windows, wondering if he could at all glance in to check one last time if this was really that great of an idea.

The windowpanes were too dirty and smudged to see through, but it wouldn't have done any good anyways. There was only darkness for as far as you could see in. It crept into imaginary corners and spanned the whole field of view, almost like a curtain pulled over whatever it was trying to hide on the inside. It almost...pulled Patrick in, in a hypnotizing way, and he stepped closer to mindlessly stare into the seemingly endless blackness. It called to him. He didn't know why, but it called to him, and he noticed the black, curling pit in the bottom of his stomach growing with each closing minute. It was a coldness that he quickly learned to welcome, and it gripped his limbs almost instantly. He let the feeling of dread sink in and creep up the back of his neck, flicking up every hair as it went. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the mix of the stinging night air and the stink of peeling paint. He was okay now. It was okay now. He was safe.

They couldn't turn back now.

They had all agreed to do this, even though Patrick had originally been hesitant.

The only thing to do was…

“Well? Let’s go in,” Patrick prompted, trying to hide the new eagerness in his tone.

Pete hesitated this time. “Are you sure—"

“Peeete. You wanted to do this in the first place, don’t tell me you’re—"

“I’m not scared! Fine! Let’s go!” Pete snapped defensively and blushed, turning around to hide it.

Patrick chuckled and shrugged. “No need to be so jumpy, man. It’s not like we’re gonna find anything anyways,” he shot a glance in Joe’s direction with a grin.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Pete grumbled and took the lead, gripping the doorknob with white knuckles.

Andy and Joe exchanged a look that said, _Oh boy_ , _here we go._


	3. Chapter 3

“Alright, here’s room number 7 out of God knows how many. Let’s hope we actually find something this time,” Patrick spoke to the camcorder, documenting their hunt at Pete’s request. He grinned, almost eerily. “No promises, though.”

“Dude, Patrick, shut up." Pete hissed. "I think I…I think I hear something..”

“Dude, what? I don’t hear…wait, hold on. The camera’s picking something up.”

Andy looked up excitedly. “Wait, really? Holy shit, man”

A flicker of movement in the shadows.

"What the fuck was that..?" The light in Andy's eyes disappeared, replaced by fear.

A sudden drop in temperature.

“Oh—oh God, oh God no, oh no oh no no no no _no_ , SHIT,”

“Patrick. Patrick, what is it?” Pete's gaze snapped to him in alarm and saw his face stricken with panic, his shoulders trembling, his pupils shrunken down twice their original size.

“Are you guys seeing this? The camera’s going crazy, and I can’t—"

Loud static pierced the air.  They dropped to the ground and covered their ears, trying to block out the static filling their head.

The flashlights shut off suddenly, leaving them engulfed in complete and total darkness.

Patrick’s scream.

No, not quite a scream. A growl. A growl so deep and otherworldly that it couldn’t _possibly_ belong to a human.

It was close, so _very_ close, a bodiless growl that taunted their every move, it was _awful—_

_**Everything's okay now, don't be scared**  
_

_**You're s af e with  m e** _

Flashes, flashes of razor-sharp teeth and blood oozing from cracks in the walls and _smiles_ and _deep, deep, sunken white eyes_ in _shadows,_ the shadows overtake _everything_ , _everything_ they touch .

All they could see was fire, a world made of fire, and the chaos in their heads grew so _loud,_ it pierced their beings with a precision that they couldn't _possibly_ understand,

Hordes of dark rats swarmed over every inch of them, clawing at their skin, gnawing their exposed bones and filling every corner with flea-bitten fur and a sea of pestilence, feeding off the smell of fear wafting through the air,

The stench of piled bodies everywhere overwhelmed their senses, and their minds grew thick and heavy and felt like the rotting flesh that surrounded them so suddenly and intensely .

It was the touch of death himself.

It could’ve been 5 minutes, 5 hours even, but all that mattered was that there was a piercing white light flashing, flashing, illuminating something so horrific, so intensely _scarring_ , that Pete couldn’t _begin_ to comprehend what was happening, because nothing made sense, he was dizzy and confused and _screaming, screaming, screaming all the time, the screams shook his body, were they even his?_ Patrick. He had to get back to Patrick, oh _GOD,_ something was _horribly_ wrong with Patrick, but he didn’t know _what, he could feel it, he could feel it taking his mind and his soul, he had to get to Patrick right away before something even worse happened –--_

 

 

Pete’s mind went blank as he was swallowed by the shadows and suddenly he was falling, falling, falling,,


	4. Chapter 4

Pete gasped for air as he emerged at the surface of an ocean, black waves rolling over his head and pushing him farther underneath each time.  He fought against it as hard as he could, scrambling to search for something he could grab onto, as his waterlogged clothes tugged on his tired limbs and he hopelessly sank to the bottom of a sea that caught no light, and gave no light.  His eyes grew heavy and he could feel himself slipping away as he grew even closer to an eternal slumber that he began to ache for..-_

\--.

Pete was in a maze of mirrors, like the ones at carnivals that feel strangely eerie. Everywhere he looked he saw mirrors, on the ceilings, walls, and floors.  He turned around and didn't find a door, so he spun back around and took cautious steps.  He kept hearing echos bouncing off the walls, and falsely cheery music played from a broken speaker mounted on the wall, distorted and tinny. 

Pushing onwards, he felt sweat trail down the back of his neck, fear seizing his nerves.  Every footstep echoed much too loudly in his ears, and everything felt so goddamn  _real_ to him. 

Pete glanced at a mirror and saw how pale he was, before catching sight of a shadowy figure standing right behind him.  He jumped and felt his heartbeat pounding in his ears, shutting his eyes tightly.  He opened them slowly, and saw nothing standing behind him.  Pete let out a shaky breath and kept going, looking to another mirror.  What he saw in _that_ mirror, rather, what he saw in every mirror, wrapped his bones in a chill that made every hair stand on end.  His bandmates.  His bandmates, ghostly pale and standing there in a way that seemed to say "save me", eyes filled with the same darkness that stood at the end of every corner and hallway.  Throats slit.  Heads limp to one side, they called to him.  The air filled with laughter, their laughter.  The same laughter that always filled Pete with joy, but this time it scared the shit out of him.  He backed up against a mirror, but hands reached out on either side of him and grabbed him, trying to pull him in.  He struggled free and ran, breathing growing louder as his sneakers hit the ground.

Blood rushed in his ears, and a screeching static filled his head as his heartbeat sped up.  He ran faster, trying to escape the chaos in his mind.

**P _e t e_**

 

Pete tried to scream, but his voice was gone.  Why was his voice gone? Wh y?

 

In the mirrors, thick black tendrils emerged from the ground and wrapped around the legs of his bandmates, and soon started to engulf their bodies and pull them under.  They opened their mouths in a silent scream, faces twisted in agony.  Pete found himself crying, unable to do anything to save his friends.  He was filled with an unimaginable sadness, and he slowed down to a jog, suddenly feeling tired.  His heartbeat started to even out.

 

_**s A ve** _

 

He couldn't.

 

_**S A V   E us** _

 

Pete's heart slowed as the world started to spin around him.

 

_**FINE** _

 

The images of his friends disappeared from the mirrors, replaced by images of Pete's screaming head, face twisted into agony like that of his bandmates.  His eyes were black, just like theirs.  His screams grew louder, filling Pete's head and causing him to grip his ears and try to block it out to the best of his abilities.  It was everywhere, following him,,

It layered, growing in intensity and stuttering every so often.  He heard distorted laughter, and the static came back, like background noise played behind Pete's drawn-out scream, which began to repeat and stutter and stutter and stutter an d  --.

he heard the crying of children, the tearing of flesh, and every worldly agony packed into that one sound that plunged him into insanity and drowned him out ,,. he heard a dog barking somewhere, but the barks grew lower and sounded more like growl s, and then the dog was almost l a u g h i n g --

he could pick out children's giggles turned into scre ams, women weepin g, shoulders shakign with laughter, and long, long, cries of _in tense_ agony. ., -0,.

then it was only a long series of noises that sounded like a CD skipping and skipping and skipping and it skipped and skipped as Pete looked into the mirrors one last time to see his face start to melt

flesh dripped from the skulls in the mirrors as Pete looked down to see black tendrils curl around his ankles and creep upwards

he couldn't breathe

all he could hear was a steady beat

a beat that had almost completely stopped, a beat that was always layered under everything

his heartbeat came to a stop as he was pulled down into inky darkness

Pete was gone

 

everything was gone

 

.-0

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

His eyes snapped open.

“PATRICK—“

“Shut the fuck up dude, you’re gonna get us caught!” Joe hissed.

Pete was lying on a dirty cot on the hard cement floor of a basement, Joe sitting beside him with his back against the wall.

He sat up, and his head pounded so intensely that he leaned over and threw up somewhere; it was too dark to tell.

“Jesus, dude. You okay?”

“Joe…what—what happened to Patrick and Andy…?”

“I don’t know, man, I don’t fucking know, you’ve been out for an hour, probably, maybe 5 minutes, I don’t know how time works in this…this _place_ , but we _need_ to get out of here before that thing finds us, or worse—“

"Wait, slow down. What thing? What the fuck is going on in here?" Pete thought back to his dream, and knew that if the _thing_ that Joe was talking about was anything like the things in his dream, then...

"Whatever the hell that thing that's got Patrick is! I dunno if you've noticed, dude, but Patrick's not himself anymore, and it's something's fault!"

"Are you saying he's, like...possessed, or some shit?"

"That's definitely possible, alright? All I'm saying is that we've gotta run from him."  Joe's voice slightly broke on those words.

“I’m not going fucking _anywhere_ until we find Andy and get Patrick back, dude. We can’t just leave them here, that’s…that’s not an option.”

“Well, it’s gonna have to be a damn option if we can’t get to them without that thing getting in the way. But I agree, for the most part. We better get moving.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Who knows how long it’ll take to get to the both of them without getting..."

"Killed?"

Pete swallowed. "Yeah, something like that."


	6. Chapter 6

_Z K D W   K D Y H   B R X   G R Q H_

 

**W H A T H A V E Y O U D O N E**

 

S I H T  O D   U O Y   T E L   T N A C   I

 

D O N ⊥   H ∩ᖉ ⊥   ⊥ H E ʍ

 

_Y O U ‘ R E   M Y  FA V O R I T E  T O Y_

 

**_P̦̠̥͇ ̭͕͡A̸̜̲̲͍ ̞͕̬͜ͅT̤͎͈̮̣͓̘ ̻̖̫̖̣R̻͚̹̰̺̮̳ ̹͙͚̗̹̻̼͡I̯͍͖̗͜ ̻͇̖͚̟̤̦͝C̻̲̱̥̫̱͔ ̙̮K͇̪̣͟ͅ_ **

 

_I T ‘ S T O O L A T E T O S A V E TH EM_

 

_Q U I S Q U E ALICUI FID EM DICTIS EO RUM_

 

_TH   EY ‘R E  I N  M M Y WA Y  
_

_IN **O U R** WAY  
_

**__ _-.:Y O U ‘ R E M I N E_ ** **_FO R E VER||. ][_ **

 

[[PLEASE JUST TAKE ME AND LEAVE THEM ALONE]]

 

_H A H HA A H AHA AHAH_ _ᗄ_ _H_ _ᗄ_ _H_ _ᗄ_ _H_ _ᗄ_ _HH_ _ᗄ_

****

 

**_TO O L A T E  
_ **


	7. Chapter 7

“Pete, it’s been _hours._ You _sure_ we’re not lost? Cuz I’m pretty damn sure we’re lost.”

“Joe, please. Please, just…just let me concentrate, I’m trying my best here,” Pete begged. “I just can’t make any _sense_ of this place. Where the fuck are we even going? How long has it been? I don’t _know,_ I don’t KNOW!”

“Jesus, man, calm down. I’m sure we can figure it out, no worries.” Joe tried to sound confident, but honestly? He knew they weren’t gonna make it. And it _terrified_ him.

“I _can’t_ calm down, dude. You and I both know that I do _horribly_ in situations like this; I even have a hard time going through a fucking _fake_ haunted house, let alone a real one.” Pete was breathing faster now, and began to shake. “I can’t do this, Joe. I can’t fucking do this. I’m not...”

Joe grabbed Pete by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “Pete, dude, I’m 100% confident that you’re strong enough for this. I’ve known you for long enough to know that you’re one of the strongest guys I know, and you’re not gonna let this dumb house take you away from me. I can’t just let a best friend go like that.”

Pete swallowed. “You sure, man?”

“I’ve never been more confident.” _A lie._ “Look, I know this is fucking with our minds, but promise me that you won’t let it get to you. It’s fucking intense, but promise me that you’ll stick with me through the whole thing.”

“Of course, dude. It’s just…Patrick, and…and Andy, and all this is just really fucking me up.”

“More than anything, I want to find them. We just have to be careful, so please try to keep it together,” Joe’s voice was grim. “The last thing I want is for _it_ to find us.”

\--

 _I can’t take this,_ Joe thought. _We’ve been walking around for far too long, I don’t know how time works in here. It feels like we’re going backwards and speeding up at the same time, it could be days, hours, minutes, seconds, years even, I’m willing to consider anything._

“Dude, we found the kitchen! I think.”

Joe blinked and took his eyes off the ground. “Holy fuck, you’re right.” _Maybe we’re actually getting somewhere._

“Ladies first,” Pete grinned and stepped aside for Joe.

Joe shot him a look and stepped through the rotting doorframe, taking in his surroundings.

It was a sight to behold.

Peeling, stained wallpaper (is that blood? Probably), rusted sinks full of what looked like…rotted animal carcasses? _Jesus_. Flies hovered close by, and a closer look confirmed that they were recent. Festering flesh hosted swarming maggots, and the stench was _unbearable._ Most of the wood on the cabinets and drawers was half-covered in black mold (in fact, the whole _place_ was a garden of fungus), and the air was musty and stagnant.

Pete walked over to the knife block, inspecting the rusted kitchenware and sizing each one up.

Joe looked at him quizzically. “Just to be safe,” Pete explained.

_The temperature dropped again._

Pete shivered and crossed his arms. “Shit, it just got really fucking cold in here, dude. It’s not just me, is it?”

_EREH EID LLIW UOY_

He was suddenly blinded, shadows took over his _mind_ , he _couldn’t s e e, why w as this happening again ?_

Pete dropped to his knees, his head pounding. White flashes. _Again._

_IDCIRCO PRAECIPIO TIBI UT ANTE MORIARIS_

He heard a voice, a voice deeper than he thought possible, reciting _something_ that sounded like _Latin?_ , but he couldn’t be sure, all he knew was that it was _powerful, and he should fear it with all his life, he should obey it, ob Ey ev ERY THING IT T ELL S YOU T O D O OR   Y OU W I LL **P A Y**_

 

_**No.**   
_

**_None of his friends deserved this._ **

It felt like he was fighting a current, using every extend of his mind to force it out of him, to cut the strings it had attached to him, to _win._

 

He fought the voice, the thing controlling his mind, he fought it with his life and he _won._

 

Pete collapsed, exhausted, but not before he heard Joe scream louder than he’d ever heard before.

 

He used the last of his energy to lift his head enough to see Joe on the floor, blood pooling beneath him, with a look on his face that Pete would _neve r get out of his mind, no ma tter how har d h etried to scrub it ou t, no matter what._

Joe looked...Joe looked _afraid, h_ e looked like he had seen... something  _unforgettable._ But past that, even deeper, was something that scarred Pete even  _more._

 

He looked soulless.

 

Like something had entered his brain, and just...stripped it clean, stripped it of all the past memories, left him _blank_ and _braindead._

 

A husk.  A shell.  A _memory_ of his soul.

 

Pete had one thing running through his mind before he blacked out completely.

 

_"I  f ai l ed"_

_((VLR CXFIBA))_

 

_((H A H))_


	8. Chapter 8

_W h Y ?_

_WH Y are Y OU D OIN g THIS SS ?_

 

 _H H E L P P_ ¿? M E (( _QQR VOBBS IRU WKB UHVWOHVV_ )) I ‘M B E GI GIN YOU T O EL T ME OU T ((( _THEY WILL K NOW W HAT THEY HAV E DONE ZG OZHG))_

_Th is is my f-..aul- -..t_

 

_I t’s al..-l my fa -:…_lt that th -- >> >is happen >??.ed to me_

 

_TH E e’res no re aSOn I sh .. >> )) ould ha ++=ve lo st to y ***ou_

 

_= +=.. hey t o >>.ok me ali –(93e a n -- __. B UR n .e..e .d m __=+_e_

 

_I sh _- > ?F>ou d ha ve ((2## do   9$@%% ne some thi )9ng whi le I co U…ld_

 

_So m >eb(ody ((h E l P)) m E . >>.?? ;;_

 

_P E T >.E??_

 

_*** an D ++ Y ??@#._

 

_J o3..e is #% deAD no w [[ZMW R KILL ED HIM DRGS PLE AS URE]]_

 

_Th E re //s, no   wa y 0 0F( I’m .. . >> get t - --9(ng ou t%% of thi 2@##S one_

_it ++..hurts_

_I “,t’s ta k (ng a ://ll of my (* strength a( 98* way to 9f(fi ght . >> this (*&^ thing_

_^( 0F if an _ - yone ca >>n he A r m#e_

_*k now ..that *I >am t*rying /?to fig 8&ht_

 

_An >d kno w t9 &hat it(8’s no 0t me_

_*what (ever horr *ble thi (ngs *I sa >y_

_*k no w * & that __*I t’s the &))&th &ing t”alk *ng_

_^((n o t 0**me_

 

_& ) I “”love: > y *o u g/ uys ??, ,, and I *will al(ways be> .S> D.<D<<F,FNNNNNNNA FJLII*&&&&*…::”””” HA TE ((**h ATE HA TE >> >> HA TE? /? /,,,,, I HA T E Y( ( ()00U8*** G O A W A Y ((889900 _IN MEDIO TUI CECIDERUNT IN MEDIO TUI CECIDERUNT IN MEDIO TUI CECIDERUNT IN MEDIO TUI CECEDERUNT )))))

 

 _I ‘M COM ING FO R Y o U and D YOU wil L KNO w That p **a t R**_ I))C K ??? …,, [[ **I S M I N E ]]** **A l L FO R m e E**

 

**G E T.. >> THE F()))UCK O>> >>FF OF (*&&& HIM )0: .>>** *****HE ‘ . >?/S TH E &7(ONL y^^ ON …E F9&8OR .ME**

 

**0((( F E A   R   M   E ))**

 

**0 ..**

 

**& *..**

 

**\--.**

 

**.. .----. -- / ... - .. .-.. .-.. / .... . .-. .**


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just 2 or 3 more chapters to go and then im DONE with this godforsaken fic jfc this is dragging out longer than i had hoped it would tbh

_Shuffle._

_Shuffle._

_Shuffle._

The sole of a shoe being dragged along the floor.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

The steady drip of blood against tile.

The distant static of a TV.

The rough grunts of a man who had a mission.

He _had_ to figure this out.

He _ **had**_ to find Patrick.

Andy ignored the searing pain of his twisted ankle and set his eyes forward, brow furrowed with determination.

No matter what voices he heard echoing off the peeling walls, no matter what puddles of off-colored liquids he stepped in, no matter how loud the static grew in his brain the closer he got.

Andy continued on, the blood from a cut on his forehead leaking into his eyes and making it harder to see.

He kept limping forward.

The splintered wood of his axe dug into the palm of his right hand and stung.

He kept limping forward, flashlight in hand.

The static grew unbearable in his brain, filling his ears and shutting out the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his chest.

 

Andy stopped.

He had found a door.

 

It was slightly cracked open, and partly covered in the same bleak wallpaper he had seen all around the house.

Andy shifted his axe to his other hand, setting his flashlight on the floor and reaching for the doorknob.

 

When he touched it, the static stopped abruptly.

 

He let out a _humph_ and stepped through, taking a quick glance all around the room before deciding it was a bedroom and going to inspect the closets and drawers for any evidence that someone had been here.

He looked once in the dresser, finding nothing, not even clothes.

 _Whoever lived here must’ve moved out,_ he thought.

Andy tried the lamp, but got nothing.

_Of course the electricity’s been shut off.  But then why did I hear TV static…? It just doesn’t add up._

 

Andy walked around the bed and found exactly what he was looking for.

 

It was a mess.

 

Blood was wiped on the door of the closet and stained the floor, where there were footprints. It looked like there had been a struggle, and a trail led all the way around to the other side, so that it looked like somebody had been dragged.

He looked closer and found…teeth marks on the nightstand? And they weren’t human, either. _That doesn’t look right_ , Andy thought.

He leaned in to inspect them, reaching a finger out to touch them and make sure that—

 

The static returned to his ears.

 

It grew louder, and louder, getting closer with every second.

Andy’s heart pounded in his chest.

 

It was just down the hall.

 

Sweat poured off his forehead.

He knew he should move, get out of there, hide, just do _something,_ but he froze.

 

It was right outside the door.

 

Andy squeezed his eyes shut and prepared for the worst, but then the static stopped.

 

His flashlight went out, plunging him into darkness and silence.

 

He unfroze, as if he was triggered by the light going out, scrambling into the closet and shutting the door, trying not to move or make a sound.

 

He heard shuffling outside the bedroom door.

He silently prayed.

 

The door swung open abruptly, and he heard a low growl echoing off the walls.

Andy covered his mouth with a grimy hand and sank down to a sitting position, sitting in his paranoia and silent fear.

 

Nails dragged across the wall, and he heard the growl grow louder as the shuffling footsteps grew closer with every heave of his chest.

The panic in his chest grew tighter, and his lungs felt like they were collapsing.

 

 _Please,_ he begged.

_Save me, please, don’t let it find me, don’t let it find me, I’m begging you._

 

The footsteps stopped outside his door, along with the growl.

Andy was left in stale silence, staring into the darkness and turning his prayer over and over in his mind.

He closed his eyes and clenched his clammy fists, waiting.

Waiting for a sign.

 

He heard a snicker.

 

Andy’s eyes flew open as the door did, and he was left staring into the yellow eyes of a growling Patrick.

No, calling it _Patrick_ would be wrong.

This thing wanted him dead, maybe more than that.

 

It wanted his soul.

 

Andy’s scream ripped the air as the demon reached for the old phone on the nightstand and wrapped the cord around his throat, yanking it tight and watching his face turn blue, before losing all color.

Andy’s lifeless body crumpled to the hard floor, his fingers clamped tight around the splintered wooden handle of an axe he never got the chance to use.

The demon stared down at him with cold, remorseless eyes.

It giggled again.

 

_THAT WAS MORE FUN THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD B E_

_NOT TO MEN TION E A SIE R. .,,,, HAH AH y o U ‘ re W EA AAK_

_LET ‘S DO THI S AG AIN SOME TIME_

_H U RL E Y_

 

_-. / ---_


End file.
